TW: Mentions of suicidal thoughts, and mentions of cutting. Please leave if this does upset you.
I'm tired, tired of living. Honestly, there's times I get so happy. But then that feels fake. Then when I get sad I get so tired, like all the water in me was replaced by lead. And I don't want to move any longer.
The tiredness makes me wanna die, just fall asleep for a really long time.
And I'm scared, scared that when I actually try to die, I'll change my mind as I take my last breath. Scared of things changing, scared of everyone leaving me, scared of the attention being drawn to me, scared that when I do decide to. . . that I survive and I get those pity stares. I'm scared of everything about this, I'm scared about feeling numb and tired.
So, here I am, crying when my friend (Who I'm not even sure is a good one, tell you about that in a later chapter) is sleeping over. Covering my face with sheets in case she leaves my sister's side and comes into my room. Because I don't want her to see me cry, I'd rather her be confused on why I'm doing this.
Planning to talk to my mom about my thoughts, but it took me years to tell her about my depression, even more to tell her I used to cut. So I don't know how to even start this conversation.
